Poems and images: Nat Hall
On either side of the mountain,
ice melts, rock hangs,
dam, water falls.
Deep in the U of the valley,
a porch, a key,
white plume of smoke.
A blended scent of peat & salt
so close & far from the ocean,
spiders tip-toe on varnished boards…
Piled up books sleep under thin dust –
cold ashes fill your coal bucket.
Wood chips tangled in sheepskin rugs,
like secret love in a locket;
on every switch, tap,
bannister, pot and handles.
Your favourite painting on the wall…
Palette of petals in a vase,
of wax beyond our Moon & Orion –
caught in a net framed for our dreams,
your universe through one keyhole.
Let’s share our scraps with the real world.
Ruby sunrise on silver tray;
layers of crystals on grass blades,
yughurt pots filled with lard and seeds
to help starlings sing at breakfast.
Robin, blackbird & jenny wren,
the must-have toys as Christmas gifts!
Miles of heather,
frozen crowberries, black gemstones,
soon find their way in your pockets;
an afternoon sky filled with gold,
a sea of diamonds at sunset…
Coal pyramid lit inside hearth after crimson,
glowing ambers in treasure chest.
To hell with rats trapped inside race!
Your avian friends feast on oatmeal
whilst magpies behave like bankers…
Just watch turnstones in the splash zone,
castaways without credit cards –
who said plastic was a treasure?
Être et avoir,
codified as strange statistics in someone’s artificial world –
let’s pin his list on the shoreline.